


Practice Makes Perfect

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: They tumble to the ground. Rukia’s practice sword stops just shy of his skin.





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a rush during the fever about the sparring session image that dropped from the live action. Also inspired by [Sera's art](http://hashtagartistlife.tumblr.com/post/176161499119/id-caption-this-something-like).

Rukia launches herself at him with a yell. The practice sword whips through the air and Ichigo knows if she lands a hit it will do more than sting. He brings his own wooden blade up to meet hers and the impact reverberates up his arm. Ichigo clenches his teeth against the unsettling vibrations. 

She’s pushing him hard today. 

He’d screwed up the other night out on patrol, let a hollow get in too close, and had nearly had his head sliced clean off his shoulders. Rukia had berated him fiercely once they’d managed to put the hollow down and she’d gotten a look at the wicked cut that had nearly ended his short stint as a substitute  _shinigami_.

Rukia pulls back, letting him regroup and reset his stance before she comes back at him. “Guard up!” she yells, and Ichigo raises his blade, but Rukia is quicker, and she spins, ducking his belated thrust and stabbing him in the gut with the bamboo blade. 

The breath goes out of Ichigo in a whoosh, and he stumbles back. “C’mon Rukia,” he grouses, lifting a hand to wipe at the sweat beading on his brow. 

“Do you want to end up as hollow bait?” Rukia asks, acidly, and Ichigo sighs. Rukia flashes him a sharp grin. “Again,” she says, and Ichigo parries her first thrust, and steps into her guard. He misses his footing, tries to catch himself and over-balances. 

They tumble to the ground. Rukia’s practice sword stops just shy of his skin. She’s on her back beneath him, eyes flared wide and violet, chest heaving in her buttoned up blouse. Ichigo can feel the heat of her in a long line down his body. 

His blood hums. He swallows. The grass under his palms is soft, the soil dry and hard. Ichigo looks down at Rukia, catches her eyes with his, and something molten rockets up his spine. 

The moment hangs. 

Eventually, Rukia shoves him off her and Ichigo rolls onto his back. 

“We’re done for today, Ichigo,” she says, and leaves him where he’s lying. 

Ichigo groans as he picks himself up off the ground to follow after her, unable to shake the afterimage of her face from his mind. 

He’s in so much trouble. 


End file.
